


Sublime Merchandise

by punk_rock_yuppie



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Because they have computers, Ben is Suffering, Kliego is only implied/pre-slash, M/M, Masturbation, Pre-Slash, Ridiculous, Sex Toys, slight AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-31
Updated: 2019-03-31
Packaged: 2019-12-30 01:44:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18305639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punk_rock_yuppie/pseuds/punk_rock_yuppie
Summary: Klaus finds something...interestingon eBay.





	Sublime Merchandise

**Author's Note:**

> kels in the discord suggested, "Klaus finds out Diego sold molds of his cock for money and finds one on Amazon" and i HAD to write it. tweaked it a little bit, but this was a lotta fun to write it!! this is a slight AU in that they have computers. i picture them being like, super clunky old school computers, haha. 
> 
> big thanks to hannah for beta'ing, as always!! i think i'm finally gonna let my fic-a-day streak break, hahaha
> 
> enjoy!!

A _lot_ of merch was made for The Umbrella Academy.

Replica school uniforms, domino masks to match, action figures, cereals, tv dinners, t-shirts and bedspreads. The list goes on, and on, and _on_.

It’s no surprise, of course, that as the Academy got older, certain... _industries_ took to capitalizing on that fame. Parody pornos, sexy versions of their outfits, and oh, _the fanfiction_. Klaus has seen it all.

Or so he thought.

Klaus taps his bottom lip as he looks at the eBay listing.

_New in box, NEVER USED!!! Getting rid of my TUA collectibles. $69.69 (noice) OBO. Slight dent to one corner of box (see pics for close-ups)._

“You’re not going to do it, are you?” Ben asks, leaning over his shoulder.

“Of course I’m going to,” Klaus replies, already moving the cursor on the screen to the **_BUY NOW_** option. Ben sighs beside him and shakes his head.

“You barely have enough money to cover rent, y’know, the thing that keeps a roof over your head?” Ben does a disappointed voice _far_ too well, and Klaus rolls his eyes. “You’re not even drunk, how can you justify this?”

“It’s a dildo based off my brother’s cock, how am I _not_ supposed to buy it?” Okay, maybe Klaus says that a little loud because the librarian shoots him a nasty look. His time on the computer is probably almost up anyway, so he hurries to fumble for the single debit card he has in his wallet. “Besides, that’s a steal.”

“It’s really not,” Ben says, but Klaus is already entering his info for the purchase.

 

It’s a struggle not to sit at his door and wait for the package to arrive. But right now, Klaus is sober, and has a job, and an apartment to keep at least somewhat clean. So he goes to his shifts, takes home a paycheck, maybe gives his landlord a handy to make up for the rent he’s missing (Ben stares at him, disappointed, the entire time), and he _obsesses_ over waiting for his package to arrive.

By the time it’s finally at his doorstep, he’s ready to cream his jeans. He tucks the box under one arm and lets himself into his apartment, then makes a beeline for his bed. Ben is thankfully absent for once, for a reason Klaus doesn’t really care about. It’s all the more satisfying to fall onto his bed and tear into the packaging without being lectured.

He tosses the box and the bubble-wrap over the edge of the bed and, despite knowing it’s a “collector’s item,” he opens the Tantus box in a mad scramble until he can finally wrap his fingers around the skin-colored dildo.

It’s got a nice heft, just the right kind of squeeze to feel realistic. The material is soft, and the veins are detailed but not obtrusive. It’s _thick_ , Klaus notes with a delighted grin. _Girthy_. The length is average, but that’s more than made up for by the fact Klaus can’t get his middle finger and thumb to touch when wrapped around the shaft. The color is a bit darker than he remembers Diego’s skin being, and he wishes it was warm, wishes he could feel Diego pulsing in his hand.

“Oh, fuck,” Klaus whines as he falls back onto his bed. He digs around under his pillow for the bottle of lube and sets it beside him with the dildo before scrambling to get out of his jeans. “Why do I buy such tight jeans?” He asks his empty apartment. He gets them down far enough that he can spread his legs and get two slick fingers into his hole.

He thrusts them fast and hard, moving to three fingers while it still burns. The stretch is good, addictive. Klaus presses his face against his pillow and pants for air. He slips in his pinky finger despite the voice in the back of his head saying _it’s too much_ and wishes he could contort to get his whole fist inside himself.

His cock twitches and precome drools onto his stomach. With his clean, shaking hand he reaches out to snag the dildo and fit it between his thighs. He pulls out his slick fingers and laves them over the fake cock, and the fantasy starts to come to life behind his fluttering eyes.

Diego’s looming over him, grunting and thrusting into the wet circle of Klaus’ fist. Klaus hasn’t seen him in at least six, maybe seven years, but he can piece together bits of memories with bits of fantasies. There’s the long scar along the side of his head, beading with sweat. Maybe he’d have some stubble by now, scratchy and thin and carving his cheekbones even sharper.

He’s shirtless, naked— _no, no,_ Klaus thinks, _all black, he always looked so good in all black._ Diego’s got black jeans hanging low on his hips and a tight black tee cutting into his chiseled chest and biceps.

Klaus shudders as he finally uncurls his fingers from the now dripping dildo. He shifts his grip and takes it by the flat base and guides it down to his hole. The head slides in easy at first, but the first flare of girth feels like it won’t fit. Klaus shudders and counts back from ten, breathing evenly until the head pops in.

It’s still not easy from there: Diego’s too thick, and the thought has Klaus wailing loud enough to rattle the walls. Old Mrs. Nesmond next door is going to leave a passive aggressive note on his door later, but he doesn’t care. He forces the dildo in slowly but surely and struggles to breath as it feels like he’s being split open.

“Diego,” he pants. “Fuck, _Diego_.”

“Oh Jesus Christ,” Ben says as he appears at the foot of the bed. “You’re actually using it?”

Klaus grins and his head lolls. “Feels so good,” he moans. He clenches around the dildo and grinds against it until it slips in to the hilt. “Did you know he’s thick? Like a fucking coke can!”

“For the love of god,” Ben groans before disappearing in the blink of an eye.

Klaus laughs before moaning as the thick tip grazes his prostate. He presses his palm against the flared base and angles it just right that it quickly becomes overwhelming. The tip hits his prostate over and over and over again. Klaus’ thighs are quaking and his cock is leaking a steady stream on his stomach.

Klaus is just about to finally curl a hand around his cock when he presses Diego’s cock deeper inside and comes abruptly as a particularly veiny spot rubs him _just_ the right way. He shouts and instead slams his hand against the wall—another noise complaint, right there—as his cock twitches, untouched. Come spurts across his stomach and up to his chest, staining the shirt he didn’t bother to take off.

Immediately, it’s too much. He lets the dildo slip out of him with a sloppy, squelching sound. He flexes his cramped hand and wipes the excess lube off on his bedsheets.

Klaus sighs happily. “Best. Purchase. Ever.”

 

 

 

He gets plenty of use out of the dildo right up until he falls back into drinking and drugs. He forgets about the dildo the next time he goes to (and then promptly leaves) rehab for the umpteenth time. He’d packed it along with him when his landlord kicked him out and he ended up stoned on the streets, but leaving rehab is another story entirely. He’s so high as he stumbles out of the center that he leaves everything behind except the clothes on his back.

He’s not that surprised when he eventually digs up his old things at the manor, after they’ve prevented the apocalypse and fixed the timeline. They’re in a box addressed to him, and it’s shoved in the back of his closet. He rifles through the old, dusty clothes, the old magazines, a defunct pager, until the box is almost empty and all that remains is an equally dust-coated dildo.

Klaus pulls it out of the box and at the same moment, there’s a choked off cough from his bedroom doorway. “What is that.”

Klaus looks over his shoulder to see none other than the man, the myth, the legend himself.

“Hey Diego.”

His brother’s face is pale and stricken. “What. Is. That.”

Klaus hums and waggles the dildo around, watching color return to Diego’s face in a splotchy blush. “I think you know what this is, brother dearest.”

Diego coughs again. “Where did you get that?”

“eBay!” Klaus chirps. He clambers out of his closet and turns the dildo over in his hand as he walks to Diego. “It was a steal.”

“Uh huh.”

“So…” Klaus eyes the fake cock appreciatively. “Did you, like. Sell your dick to the company?”

Diego opens his mouth but doesn’t speak.

“Like, did they cast the mold with hot wax?” A flush of goosebumps run over Klaus’ skin. “Did you manage to stay hard the whole time?” Klaus suddenly has questions upon questions bubbling up inside him.

“I was short on cash,” Diego says. “I’ve...never seen one in person.”

“Well,” Klaus drawls. “The _What’s Kraken_ is one of my favorite toys, I’ll have you know.” He cradles the dildo close to his chest and relishes the way Diego’s face contorts into something beyond embarrassment or regret. “Very satisfying.”

“That’s good,” Diego replies, sounding faint.

Klaus tilts his head and looks Diego up and down curiously. “I do wonder though...if it lives up to the _real_ thing.”

Diego’s pants are black and loose fitting, but Klaus doesn’t miss the way his cock twitches under the cotton fabric.

Klaus feels like he might _die_ waiting for Diego to respond, so much so that he only realizes he hasn’t breathed when Diego _finally_ opens his mouth.

“Wuh-Wanna find out?” Diego asks, his voice hardly more than a rasp.

Klaus tosses the dildo aside. He reaches out and secures his hand in Diego’s shirt, and yanks him into his bedroom. As he shoves his brother toward the bed, he says, “Hell fucking _yes_ I do.”


End file.
